Conversation Hearts
by pokemon fan 98
Summary: A look back at some of the past Valentine's Days of our favorite agents. Canon compliant. Chapter 1: Coulson and May, before Bahrain. Chapter 2: Fitz-Simmons, Academy days.
1. You Keep All That in Your Desk?

_A/N: It's a bit late, but here's a Valentine's Day story involving Coulson and May, back just before the mission in Bahrain. Friendship, pre-ship feels. Enjoy!_

* * *

The ringtone Melinda had assigned for Andrew – or rather, the ringtone he'd assigned for himself, on her phone – pulled Melinda from her work. Her lips turned up in a smile. "Hey," she greeted.

"Melinda, hi."

There was hesitation in Andrew's voice, which stole Melinda's smile. A bad feeling crept up on her. "We're not going to have dinner tonight, are we?" It was barely a question.

He sighed, confirming her belief before he even spoke. "I'm so sorry, Melinda. Gregson is calling me in on a 911. Apparently one of his men is in a bad place, and it can't wait until tomorrow." He waited for her to say something, then continued. He knew her too well to wait long. "I'll make it up to you," he promised in a lower voice. "You know I'm good for it."

Melinda breathed out low. That was true enough. "Okay."

"Love you. Happy Valentine's Day."

Melinda bit the inside of her lip and hung up. So much for the plan of finishing this file and getting home to start cooking. She'd had her heart set on making Andrew a special dinner her dad had taught her how to make, years before. Andrew didn't even know. He probably expected to make them his signature Valentine's Day scampi. Which was why she'd gone to the trouble of sneakily getting the supplies she would need to make her dinner instead.

She looked down at the file she was halfway through reviewing, suddenly much less intent on finishing quickly. If she was honest with herself, she didn't want to finish at all, and return to an empty apartment. Melinda wasn't big on Valentine's Day, with all its expected flashy romantic gestures, but since being with Andrew… it made a difference, having someone close to her at this time of year. She liked their quiet Valentine's together, with a homemade meal and time curled up on the couch. Maybe it was stupid, but she didn't want to go and sit on her couch by herself.

She'd rather stay in the office and work by herself. At least that way she would be productive. Deskwork was her least favorite part of being an agent, yet it was definitely a necessary part. Maybe she could get a jump on it and eliminate the deskwork for the next week.

One by one those in the office around her left for the day, heading home. Most cleared out quickly once five o'clock hit. One stayed, their light and hers the only bright spots in the office space. It was seven o'clock before the other agent's light flicked off, and Melinda looked over her shoulder to see who else had stayed late. Phil.

He blinked at her. "I thought Krasky stayed. Guess I counted wrong." He walked up to Melinda's cubicle. "Strange to see you so hunched over a desk. You usually spend as little time in here as possible."

Melinda tapped her pen on the desk. "Someone has to review old mission files."

"But not usually you," Phil insisted. He seemed amused. "Fury has a soft spot for you, letting you do 75% fieldwork, 25% deskwork. Which doesn't require staying late with files."

May set her pen down and turned her head to look at him. "If Fury has a soft spot for anyone, it's you," she corrected him. "Letting the Comms guy go into the field so much."

Phil leaned over the edge of her cubicle, letting his hand dangle on her side. "Maybe he just knows we make a good team. I'm really not sure what his motives are sometimes. He can be as unreadable as you."

Melinda fought back a flicker of a smile.

"Why are you still here?"

"Why aren't you with Andrew?"

Their questions overlapped, and Phil chuckled. "Fine, I'll go first. I don't have any plans tonight and wanted to get a head start on tomorrow. I thought you and Andrew had plans?"

Melinda felt her mood sour again. "We _did_. He's stuck at work."

Phil pressed his lips together. "So you're avoiding the holiday."

"It's a stupid holiday anyway."

She could see Phil attempt to choke back his laugh, even if he didn't succeed. She appreciated the effort. "Do you have any food here?" he asked.

Melinda opened a desk drawer and produced a granola bar. "Emergency stash."

Phil was frowning at the granola bar when she looked back up at him. "I'll be right back."

Melinda watched him walk back in the direction of his office with slightly narrowed eyes. She read a few more lines of the mission file, not absorbing anything as her attention remained on wondering what Phil was doing. Was he not going to go home now, in some sort of act of solidarity? There was no reason for them both to act like workaholics.

Phil returned with his arms full, and showed her each item he carried as though he were Vanna White. "Seltzer water – black cherry," he said. "Cool Ranch Doritos. A Hershey bar. And for entertainment purposes, drum roll please, a documentary."

Melinda quirked an eyebrow. "You keep all that in your desk?"

Phil grinned abashedly. "You never know when you might need junk food. Like tonight, it's working out perfectly. Come on."

Melinda's wariness increased. "Where?"

"The op center. It's got the biggest screen."

Melinda felt tempted to make an excuse that she had too much work to do. Phil would see right through that. Actually, he would completely call her out on it, like he had before. She stood and followed him into the op center, leaving the broken granola bar in her desk drawer.

Phil went to put the documentary into the computer. Melinda retrieved plastic cups from the water station and popped open the bottle of seltzer, dividing it between the cups. "So what are we watching?" she asked.

Phil grabbed the remote before pushing one of the swivel chairs over next to Melinda's. "It's a story about a guy who stands up for those who can't stand up for themselves. He puts himself in harm's way to protect the people and country he loves, and makes the ultimate sacrifice to save billions of lives."

Melinda sat down and popped open the bag of chips, a wave of affection going through her. "Captain America again?"

Phil didn't waver. "He's one of the best heroes the world's ever seen, May. And this is supposed to be one of the best documentaries about him."

She was sure Phil already knew everything about Steve Rogers, but admired that he wanted to learn about his idol. Of course she would be receiving a detailed analysis of the documentary from him for the next week, essentially viewing it twice… it still beat looking at mission files.

Phil raised his cup and tapped it against Melinda's, and the documentary began. As the two sat in the op center, watching possibly the driest documentary in existence, Melinda was pleasantly surprised to find she was enjoying herself. It wasn't the evening she had planned. It wasn't even the evening she'd planned to make up for the _original _evening she'd had planned. Still, it was a nice Valentine's Day with a friend.

And she could look forward to another Valentine's Day with Andrew, the following night…

For now, she looked over at Phil and watched him absorbing every fact in the documentary with a calm, geeky excitement. She grabbed a few more chips and broke off half the chocolate bar and leaned back to really watch. It looked like action footage now.

"Thanks Phil," she said under her breath.

She wasn't sure if he heard her, but she thought she saw him incline his head, just a touch. And that was that.


	2. Is That a Challenge?

_A/N: It's past Valentine's Day now. So what better time to continue a story of Valentine's past? Sorry for the feeble joke. I planned out several one-shots of Valentine's some of the team could have experienced, but I only had the idea on Valentine's Day - far too late to write them all in time for the holiday. I'll still write them, though, and update as I do. Coming up we have Skye, but for now, let's go back to the Academy with our favorite scientists: Fitz-Simmons!_

* * *

Jemma turned off the silly romantic comedy in disgust. Did everything in the world revolve around Valentine's Day? A rom-com on the Discovery Channel, for Pete's sake!

She wasn't having any of it. Everyone at the Academy was so lovey-dovey and full of PDA. Jemma had really expected students here to be different than the ones in her old school. So far, the only difference was a slight increase in I Q here. And even that didn't stop many of the students from acting like idiots. All the romantic gestures she'd seen today, each more high-tech than the last, had almost made her long for the low-tech peers she'd had before. At least their romantic gestures had been easily ignored. Trying to focus on chemistry when the loudspeaker kept playing love songs parodied by a boy to a girl in the class had been extremely difficult. Jemma usually didn't have a problem with Valentine's Day, but she'd been annoyed too much this year. She needed to escape. She thought of what students did on campus on the weekends. They all loved going to the boiler room to drink and blow off steam. Jemma had gone a few times in the months she'd been at the Academy, but she'd always been too anxious to enjoy herself.

That changed now. She wanted a distraction from Valentine's Day that didn't consist of academia. To the boiler room she went.

It was packed, as Jemma expected. It was great. The crowd of people dancing beneath party lights obscured the few on the outskirts of the room, locked against each other, from view. Jemma grabbed a soda and listened to the music, letting the atmosphere build the energy inside her. She danced for several songs, immensely glad she'd left her room, before she saw a familiar pale, pink-tinged face looking her way. Leo Fitz.

She walked over to him, still dancing slightly. "Hi," she greeted. "Aren't you going to dance?"

He clutched his soda tightly. "Not much of a dancer. Just wanted some excitement."

Jemma smiled. "I'm not much of a dancer either. I actually came for the same reason. I think I'm warming up to the place."

"It's definitely warming me up," Fitz stammered. "I think I'll head out in a few minutes."

She didn't know why that thought put a dampener on her mood, until she looked around and realized this was the first personal interaction she'd had since coming to the boiler room.

Another song finished, and Fitz said goodnight and disappeared in the crowd. Jemma halfheartedly began to dance to the next song, but abandoned the effort midway through. Her distraction was no longer working, her thoughts turned to companionship. She wouldn't find meaningful social interaction in the boiler room tonight. So she slipped out before the song finished, and breathed a sigh of relief once the door closed and the loud music was muted.

She had to confront why she was so annoyed this Valentine's Day. It wasn't the abundance of romantic gestures and PDA that got to her. It was the reminder that she was alone. She didn't even think it in a romantic way. She didn't have any friends here. She had rivals. She had lots of those. But friends? She wasn't sure anyone she knew would list her as their friend. Not yet, at any rate. It was an incredibly lonely realization, which took any trace of fun out of Valentine's Day.

Except she wasn't alone right now, she noticed. Fitz hadn't kept walking once he'd left the boiler room. He stood at the base of the steps, hands shoved in his overcoat pockets, staring into the distance. Looking like he was thinking the same things she was. She knew he was the same age as her, and probably the same intelligence, though he was going for engineering. He was definitely her biggest rival. Did he have any friends? She didn't know him well enough. He'd barely spoken a word to her.

She took an intuitive leap and decided he really _was_ thinking the same things she was. If two people were in the same space, thinking the same thing, what could be more logical than starting a conversation? They didn't have to be rivals. Maybe saying hello tonight would lead to a friendship.

In the time it took her to decide to talk to him Fitz started walking away. Jemma's stomach twisted and she reacted instinctively. "Fitz, wait!" she shouted, and ran down the steps to catch up to him.

"Simmons, hi," he stammered.

"You were right," she said. "It was too warm in there. And a bit too crowded."

"'spose it would be, being Valentine's Day."

There was a palpable tension in the air. Jemma inspected Fitz and thought he looked quite nervous. And, honestly, a bit down in the dumps. "Why don't we do something fun?" she asked. "What do you like to do?"

Some of his nervousness seemed to lessen as he thought. "I have been working on my own laser tag. Do you want to see it?"

"Have you got it all figured out? I could help if you'd like."

He smiled. "Yeah, you can help me finish it. Maybe we can try it out. Though I have to warn you, I'm an awful shot."

Jemma scoffed. "You can't be worse than I am."

Fitz raised an eyebrow. "Is that a challenge?"

Jemma grinned. Maybe they weren't done being rivals after all. But maybe now they could be friends as well. As they walked to Fitz's dorm, Jemma found all of her frustration with Valentine's Day had faded away.

She wasn't alone anymore.


End file.
